Kurt, his Blaine and Blaine's 'Cerberus'
by LivAndLetDie
Summary: <html><head></head>AU Kurt has finally found the perfect guy; Blaine's everything he could ask for and more. But there's someone standing in the way - Blaine's dog, a Great Dane, Karan, and he won't back down without fight either. Actually not as cracky as it sounds</html>
1. Horse's Head on a Pillow

** **Kurt, his Blaine and 'Cerberus' ** **

**by LivAndLetDie**

**Chapter 1**

Kurt saw moving truck arriving early in the morning. Finally someone had bought the old Mrs. Yakovic house. It only took 8 months.

The house next to Kurt's own small, two bedroom abode had been empty for 8 months now. It might have something to do with the fact, that house's previous owner, Mrs. Yakovic, died in it and her body wasn't discovered for two weeks. She was an old lady, 84 years old to be exact, she had no family and everyone, who even dared to talk to her, got yelled at. Kurt always thought that she just didn't like society in general. He didn't really know his old neighbor very well, but the fact that someone he knew died and no one knew that for two weeks, made him realize, that he never wanted to end his life that way.

Suddenly, the fact, that he was 26 years old and still single seemed more daunting.

The small suburban town, where he lived, was a perfect place for older people or for families; it wasn't exactly known for being a young gay men hot spot. He still sometimes wondered himself, how he had ended up here. When he was a teenager, he always thought, that he will ditch small town Lima for something bigger and better as soon as possible. It turned out, that you can take a small town boy out of it, but you can't take the small town out of a boy. After couple years in New York, he wished for a suburban lifestyle, a house of his own seemed like a paradise. Although he mostly worked at home, he still drove to New York at least 3 times a week, but by now, he did not want to ever live there again.

Still, although his new community consisted of much more accepting people, he sometimes felt lonely.

For months now, he saw potential buyers arriving and leaving just as fast. Location wasn't the problem; who didn't want a house in a suburb just a hour or so away from New York? The house itself was the problem.

Mrs. Yakovic, being old and alone, didn't really keep the house in best condition. She had troubles with just walking and breathing. The garden behind the house was specious, but overgrown with weeds. From what he saw through windows and that one time, when Kurt foolishly tried to introduce himself to his neighbor, when he just moved in, only to nearly get his hand slammed between Mrs. Yakovic's doors, the house itself wasn't in a much better shape. The wallpaper was peeling off and wooden floors had definitely seen better days. Outside of the house was even in worst state; the roof needed to be patched, there was a crack or two in the walls and during these last months, some teenage hooligans had spray painted obscene words and badly drawn gratifies on it.

Only someone completely crazy would buy a house like that, Kurt thought.

Well, it seemed that there was a plenty of mad people in this side of world, because someone had just bought it.

It's not like he was snooping; he was just starting his day with a cup of coffee and was drinking it while standing by the window. He just so happened to be drinking that cup of coffee for last two hours. The truck arrived at 8AM. From what he could see, his new neighbor's furniture was definitely an improvement from Mrs. Yakovic's cat shapped throw pillows. He spotted a couch he wouldn't mind to have in his own living room. If he had to take a guess, someone his age was moving in. Maybe it was a new family? The furniture was too modern for it to be another elderly couple, spending their last years in peace and quiet. But there wasn't a crib or small beds, so definitely someone without children.

Kurt's phone rang.

"Hello?" Kurt answered.

_"I can't believe this! Someone actually sold that house. I bet it was Madeleine, that house deal stealing whore!"_ A voice half shouted, half yelled on the other side without so much as an introduction. That was okay, because Kurt would recognize his friend's, who lived across the street - Quinn's - voice anyways.

"You didn't sell it?" Kurt asked, surprised. If there was someone, who could sell that peace of crap house, it had to be Quinn. No one could sell an American dream of a white picket fence house in a suburb better than she; even if the said fence was grey instead of white and missing few planks.

_"Please, don't you think I would have told you, if I had known about our new neighbors? I can already imagine Madeleine boasting. She will be yapping for hours about how she has managed to do the impossible. That bitch-oh, I love that lamp!"_

"The red one? Yes, it probably looks great together with that wood desk and office chair in red fabric." I answered.

_"And those book shelves."_

"What bookshelves?" Kurt asked.

_"Oh, they're still outside. You probably can't see them from your house; the truck is in front of them. But they match the desk."_

"Do you know anything about our new neighbor?"

_"No, but judging by the furniture, I'd say a couple of newlyweds."_

"But why would they buy a house like that?" Kurt asked. Indeed, why would anyone buy something like that? The house itself was really cheap, but it needed a lot of work, that will probably cost more than the house.

_"Who knows? If they are newlyweds, maybe they just like to remove old wallpaper in between rounds of sex." _Quinn guessed.

"Well that's one weird kink, but whatever does it for them. As long as they keep their constructor workers role playing to indoor works, I'm fine with that." We both laughed.

_"Ok, I got to get ready for work,"_ Quinn said after our laughter died down. _"Do you think it would be terribly unprofessional, if I had a bit of drink beforehand? If I have to listen to Madeleine bragging, I need to be intoxicated."_

"Nah, I, honestly, have always thought that she herself starts mornings with either a bit of Jim or Jack."

_"In that case I won't – I will not lower myself to her level. Talk to you later? And call me, if neighbors arrive." _

"Of course, luv," Kurt said and hanged up.

Kurt was definitely not snooping.

After two more hours, still standing in his kitchen, he was willing to admit, that he was a little bit curious.

But his patients finally paid off, because around noon someone finally arrived. And that someone turned out to be definitely worth waiting for. When Kurt first saw the dark blue Audi A3 TDI, he was ready for a happy lovely-dovey couple step out of it. Instead a man around Kurt's own age opened the cars doors. He brought something else from the car, but Kurt's vision was obscured by the fence. His new neighbor briefly talked with the movers, shook their hands and then walked to his new house.

Kurt won't lie – this guy was definitely an improvement from Mrs. Yakovic, although the bar was set really low. First of all, he already talked with someone and even made a contact with them, by shaking their hands. Secondly, even from this far away, Kurt could see that he wasn't exactly unpleasant to look at. Not at all! He was dressed in nice, simple but still fashionable clothes, and he had nice features. Thirdly, he was a man. A man Kurt's age.

Granted, he of course could be just waiting for his girlfriend or wife to arrive in equally sensible car, but, still, there was someone else around Kurt's age! That alone was exciting.

Kurt reached for his iphone and rung someone, with whom he could share his excitement.

"Quinn! He's here. A guy who looks around our age just arrived in a Audi A3 TDI. He's alone."

_"Definitely gay."_She answered instantly.

"Oh, please! You haven't even seen him yet."

_"He moves to suburb alone, is a bachelor that actually owns matching furniture and drives Audi A3 – I need no more proof,"_ Quinn said confidently._"That and I talked to Madeleine. She told me that he was a writer, moving here for' inspiration' and he's recently single."_

"Do you think I should go introduce myself?" Kurt asked.

_"Babe, you aren't already half way to his house? The, hell, are you waiting for?"_ Quinn hollered.

"Please, I'm not you. I don't throw myself at anyone who arrives in this town."

_"Fuck you!"_

"Eww, that's a disturbing thought. Please don't gross me out with images of heterosexual sex before lunch."

_"Well, then go to your neighbor for some afternoon delight; you can 'gross me out' with images of hot gay sex later tonight all you want."_ Quinn said and ended our conversation.

Kurt considered going to his neighbor's house. To say hello, he swears. And if hot afternoon sex indeed came out of that, he won't exactly complain. After a short internal debate, he decided, that going there just minutes after the guy arrived was a bit weird. Instead Kurt passed time, making a fresh batch of brownies. Hey, it was the neighbor greeting tradition; you had to bring baked goods! Or jell-o.

After a hour of baking, and then two hours of making himself presentable, Kurt finally left his house, to meet this mysterious neighbor of his. Kurt knocked at his doors and waited. He could here steps and then the door was opened.

Clearly he needed to go to doctor's to check, if he had shortsightedness, because his neighbor was clearly more than just nice.

"Hi, you're new," Kurt said before thinking. He wanted to hit himself over the head. He's twenty six years old; he should be over mumbling awkwardly and blushing in front of hot men!

The other man just smiled and extended his hand for a hand shake, "Yes, but I usually go by Blaine."

"Kurt. I baked you cookies." Why doesn't a meteor fall from the sky on you, when you need it the most?

"Come inside! There's unopened boxes everywhere, so be careful or you might trip. But I did already unpack my coffee machine." Blaine said and motioned Kurt inside.

"Thanks." Kurt said, and stepped inside. He was right – the house was a wreck. He started to remove his boots, but Blaine stopped him.

"Don't even bother. It's not like you could make it much worse than it is right now."

"No, that's ok." Kurt said and took off his ankle length boots.

Kurt fallowed Blaine to the kitchen, where the shorter man pulled two mugs out of a box labeled 'kitchen' and sat one in front of Kurt. While Blaine started coffee machine, Kurt looked around the room, "I didn't introduce myself properly; I'm your neighbor. I live in the red house right next to you."

"Oh? That's great, not a day in a new town and I already have someone to go to for a cup of sugar." Blaine joked.

"Yes. I was surprised to see, that someone had bought this house. It's so..." Kurt began to say, but stopped himself, when he didn't come up with anything that wouldn't insult the owner of this house.

"Fucked up?" Blaine offered.

"No. Well yes. But I would have used something like 'abominable'."Kurt admitted while scratching the back of his neck.

"Don't worry. I know that this house is a complete shit, but I plan to fix it and truly make my own. I need a change of scene and something new to do. That's why I bought it. Well, that and the big back yard. Karan already loves it. He's outside there right now, probably already digging holes or something."

Kurt silently cursed. Karan? This guy probably arrived, while Kurt was fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror for twenty minutes. Of course, that a good looking gay man living next doors to him couldn't be single. He already has someone – a really weird gardener by the sounds of it.

"Karan? So you're living with your boyfriend." Kurt asked, trying to sound disinterested.

Blaine laughed and said, "No. Not a boyfriend. Karan is my dog. He's a Great Dane; needs a lot of space. It's just me and him living here."

"Oh." Kurt found his voice and responded. So, there was no boyfriend after all.

Life, which is a bitch and likes to screw him over: 0

Kurt: 1

"What made you come to that conclusion? That I'm gay?" Blaine asked. "I mean, I am, but what made you jump to that conclusion first."

"Takes one to know one?" Kurt answered, hesitantly. Saying, that he knew someone, who knew someone, who had information about Blaine, and that he was observing the movers for hours seemed a bit, how to put it, stalkerish.

The smile that Blaine graced him with, made something in Kurt's chest tighten up, "Really? Well, what are the odds? I've spent years in the city with millions in it, but had to move to small town to meet someone like you."

'Someone like you'? If Kurt wasn't blushing before, now there was no doubt.

Kurt cleared his throat, and asked Blaine, "So, what do you do when you're not trying to fix the unfixable?" He was pretending, that he didn't know already

"I'm a writer." Blaine fixes a cup of coffee for both of us.

"What do you write? Maybe I have read some of your works?" Kurt took his cup and sat down in a chair by the table. Blaine sat down too, across from the small table.

Blaine smiled secretively and asked, "Answer me this – do you read crime or romance novels?"

"Umm, neither."

"Then no, you probably haven't."

"But which ones do you write – romance or crime?"

Blaine gave a short laugh, shook his head and asked Kurt a question instead, "And what do you do, Kurt?"

"I'm a designer. I design wedding dresses."

"Really?"

"Yes, usually specific designs made for the bride. I go to New York often, but I can also work on my designs at home. I like it."

"That actually doesn't surprise me. The first thing I noticed about you was how well dressed you are. I love your jacket."

"Thank you." Kurt replied, fiddling with one of the metal clasps of his blue jacket.

They talked for what felt like hours. Kurt found out that he and Blaine had a lot in common. Their conversation went easily, their laughter filled the house. For Kurt, it was hard to believe, that someone like Blaine was still single; he was smart, funny, handsome, talented, and just a very positive person. Kurt was waiting for him to say something like 'oh, and I collect my own back hair in tiny balls' or 'the doctor said that city air was bad for my rash', because no one could be that amazing and single. He was waiting for the other shoes to drop, but it started to seem like it won't.

"Trust me; if you want to eat outside of house, the only place to go is 'The Bar Code'. At least you won't have to worry about getting there."

Blaine looked at his hands that were tightly clasping his now empty cup of coffee, before replying, "Well, maybe you could show me. How about this Friday?"

"Are you asking me out?" Kurt asked in disbelief.

"Are you accepting?"

"I'm-"

CRASH!

A loud crash resonated through kitchen. Something large had slammed into the back door. Blaine immediately stood up to open them. Just seconds later, an insanely large, black dog bounced inside the kitchen. He was matted with dirt, mud dripping from him.

The large dog – Karan – bounced around Blaine, acting like he had swallowed methamphetamine until he noticed Kurt. The dog became completely still in a second, sat back on his haunches. He was observing Kurt with cold eyes. Karan had turned from bouncing overgrown puppy to a dog that looked like it could rip his spine out in a matter of seconds.

"Karan, this is Kurt, he's our new neighbor." Blaine said to his dog, as if he was a person and scratched behind his ears. Even sitting down Karan reached Blaine's waist. "You're not allergic or scared, are you Kurt?"

"No, no I'm not." Kurt answered, partially lying. He was not allergic to dogs, but he still usually stayed away from animals as if he was. All that fur, slobber and mud were completely not his thing. And he was not afraid of dogs, but Karan could probably swallow him whole and he looked like he was considering this option. Seriously, was he a part dog, part horse?

"Karan's really nice. His size usually intimidates people, but he's actually a sweetheart. He's amazing with kids."

"I'll take your word for it." Kurt mumbled and then said louder, trying to be friendly, "Hi there, doggy."

Seriously, the dog was glaring at him. It was not just Kurt's imagination, playing tricks on him.

"You can pet him, if you want." Blaine offered.

'_And risk losing a hand, I think not' _Kurt thought. "I'd rather wouldn't, he's rather messy."

And just few seconds later Kurt found himself with a lapful of a dog. Karan had basically leaped for Kurt, putting his dirty paws on his Alexander McQueen jacket, dripping mud on his white pants.

"Karan! Come one, get off! It's not polite to leap on the guests." Blaine said, but he really didn't sound too serious about his command.

Kurt was frozen in fear – he felt pinned beneath this pony sized dog. Karan chooses that moment to slobber all over Kurt's face. He licked Kurt's face from chin to forehead with his rough tongue, probably leaving behind a red, irritated skin. A bit of slobber got inside Kurt's eye.

"He likes you." Blaine observed.

"He has a good taste," Kurt said, trying to sound confident, when in reality, he just wanted to run away. He tried to gently push the dog away, but Karan wouldn't budge, until that Cerberus jumped off, but not before softly growling in Kurt's ear.

The warning was clear.

Blaine was his human and Kurt was not come in between them.

Listen closely – it's the sound of the other shoe dropping.

Karan stepped away, turned his back on Kurt and once again started bouncing around Blaine. After few seconds he took off, and ran away somewhere.

"He's …certainly something." Kurt said, trying to take deep breaths to slow his heart down.

"Yes, he's been all I got for a really long time now. He's been with me through everything. Sometimes it feels like he's not just a dog, he's my best friend and guardian. You know what I mean?"

'_No really? I didn't notice the overprotective growling or glaring' _Kurt thought, sarcastically.

"Well, look at the time. I have to go!" Kurt said quickly, already walking to the doors.

Blaine's hand on his arm stopped him, before he could get too far. He asked, "Kurt, do you remember, what I asked, before Karan interrupted us? I would really like to get to know you better. I mean, if you wanted to."

And at the moment, when Blaine's soft eyes looked straight into Kurt's, the taller man had already made up his mind. No dog will stop him from getting to know this amazing guy – he had waited too long to meet someone like Blaine. He was the perfect guy and Kurt would be lying, if he said, he didn't feel sparks, like electricity running over his skin, every time he looked in Blaine's eyes.

This could be potentially amazing.

And not even Devil's Spawn himself could keep him back.

"Sure. Pick me up at 8?"

"Okay." Blaine said, squeezing Kurt's arm just a bit tighter.

"Okay." Kurt smiled back.

They said their goodbyes and Kurt offered to let himself out.

When he reached the front door, he discovered one of his boots already chewed up and covered in dog's drool. Obviously, that was this dog's way of putting a horse's head in the bed. Those were one of a kind, Kurt's favorite ankle length boots!

Oh. It's on, bitch!

* * *

><p>I tried to work on my other story ''Perfectly Wrong'', but I started writing something else. THEN I wrote nearly 4000 words long drama fiction, decided that I still need to fix some things in it, and instead I ended up writing this.<p>

I will blame my OCD.

This won't be a long story, probably two or three chapters. I'm not dropping 'Perfectly Wrong' for this.

Your REVIEWS make me jump up and down like crazy; jumping jacks are a good cardio workout, so take care of my heart. (And you can jump with me, and become healthier too!)

~ This was written for a friend, who recently got burned pretty badly. Laughter supposedly makes everything heal faster, so I hope that this makes you at least crack a smile. ~


	2. Cockblocking SOB!

**Kurt, his Blaine, and Blaine's 'Cerberus'**

**by LivAndLetDie**

**Chapter 2**

Kurt's date with Blaine turned out to be the most amazing night of his life. Of course, there had been men before Blaine, guys Kurt had dated during university, and even two serious relationships, but from the moment Kurt saw Blaine it had been magnificent. There weren't just sparks; there were fireworks like it was 4th of July and New Year all in one day. It truly was perfect. Well, almost.

Let's rewind.

The night started very promising, when Blaine knocked on his front door at precisely eight. In his hands, he was holding a single white rose. Kurt couldn't remember the last time someone had given him flowers, probably, he later figured, because he never actually had received any. Except that one time, when he was in hospital, getting his appendix removed, and his step brother Finn gave him a cactus, but that really didn't count.

Blaine was dressed really well in a red button up shirt, dark blue, almost black pants and a matching blazer. Kurt definitely appreciated how well the outfit fitted him.

They drove in Blaine's Audi, Kurt showing the way. Music from the 50s was playing on Blaine's ipod, Kurt hadn't met anyone, who was listening The Flamingos 'I Only Have Eyes For You' in his car before, but everything about Blaine was just so charming.

They got a really good seat in 'The Bar Code', a booth in a dark and secluded corner. The only other people there were few elderly couples; people in sixties and seventies fussing over and feeding deserts to each other. Adorable! Kurt could feel few stares from time to time, and the conversations definitely stopped for a moment, when they walked inside, but he knew, that it was not because, they were two men on a date. The news of a new arrival in the town simply had traveled with the speed of light; everyone was interested in this new, young man, who had bought that old wreck of a house. Kurt, secretly, was glad, that Blaine was seen in his company so early on, before some of those old crocks decide, that this new guy could be a good match for their granddaughters. So he was staking his claim; sue him.

Their conversations flowed just as freely as the day, they met. There was no awkward silence. Kurt was honestly surprised, how many things they did have in common. It turned out, that they were both from Ohio and had lived just two hours away from each other. They shared a love for music, art and theater. Kurt told Blaine about his family; about his dad, Carole and Finn. When Kurt told Blaine, his step brother went he was a hardcore Buckeyes fan; Kurt was a bit scared about how much Blaine seemed to be 'fangirling' over his brother.

Blaine didn't talk a lot about his own family, he said that he moved out of his parent's house as soon as possible and never looked back.

While they were drinking coffee and waiting for their desserts, Blaine put his hand gently on Kurt's and didn't take it off for the rest of a night. He was playing with taller man's fingers and running his thumb in circles over soft skin inside Kurt's palm. The lights were dimmed and soft. The atmosphere, beautiful night, delicious chocolate cake for dessert – everything was perfect. There wasn't just sparks, there was lightning!

And then there was drive home and their night had to end, or maybe not.

Blaine parked car in front of his house ad turned the ignition off. He looked at Kurt and said, "I will risk sounding like a total creep, but if I don't ask, I know that I will regret it for a long time. Do you want to come inside? I actually have furniture in relatively normal places now."

Kurt felt like he was teenager again. Well, not like his own teenage self – teen Kurt never dated and never experienced those amazing 'will he or won't he kiss me' moments, but this is probably what it would feel like.

"Yes, I would love that." Kurt replied, shyly. And why was he shy again, it's not like he has never 'come inside for a coffee'?

"Okay then." Blaine gave him a blinding smile and got out of the car. They both walked towards the door. Blaine pulled out his house keys and unlocked it. He turned around to look back at Kurt and their eyes locked. Something snapped inside them, they both leaned closer at the same time and their lips locked. The kiss grew more passionate quickly and Kurt pressed Blaine up against his house doors, their tongues intertwined. Blaine reached for the door handle; he opened doors and they both stumbled inside. Kurt started to remove Blaine's blazer, while the other man's were twisted in his hair. They were walking backwards, kissing, until Blaine whispered, "Upstairs. Bedroom."

It was a miracle that they didn't fall and break their necks, walking upstairs, while still kissing, removing their clothes and groping each other.

Kurt was in process off unbuttoning last buttons of Blaine's shirt, his blazer was already somewhere on the floor by the doors. Kurt's own shirt was already all the way open and Blaine was gripping his naked stomach. And that's when they both heard the whine.

It was a long, pitiful whine that sounded insanely loudly in the otherwise empty house. They stopped kissing and Blaine flipped on the bedroom lights.

Karan was lying on his left side in the middle of Blaine's bed. His body took almost all of the space in it. His large head was hanging over the side of the bed, and he was whining as if in great pain.

Blaine immediately went to his side, knelt by his head and started stroking him."What's the matter, boy?" He asked.

Karan just kept on whimpering and softly groaning.

"Is he okay?" Kurt asked. He didn't exactly get along with the dog, but he didn't want him to die. A dead dog in the bed was definitely a mood killer.

"I don't know. It looks like he's in pain or sick. I think I should call the vet." Blaine said. Already reaching for his phone.

And with that their night was over. Blaine called the vet, who promised to come and check on him tonight. Blaine, of course, apologized for the ruined end of the night, but Kurt understood. Or at least he pretended to understand.

Kurt said goodbye and leaned in for one final kiss, but at precisely moment Karan gave an even louder whine than before, so Blaine sprang back just as their lips were about to touch and moved to his dog's side.

Kurt had to let himself out.

The next morning he called Blaine to find out, what had happened after that. The vet arrived shortly after he left and checked Karan out and see, what's wrong. After nearly an hour long visit his diagnosis – nothing.

The dog was fine, there was nothing wrong. Blaine said that Karan was already better before the doctor arrived, but he had to be checked out anyways.

Karan was whining like he was dying, but had got better as soon as Kurt left.

Now, you could think that Kurt was paranoid, but he still remembered Karan's soft growl in his ear and how he had been jumped as soon as he admitted of not wanting to get dirty.

Also the fact that his morning newspaper was shredded and soaked in dog's slobber even before he went out to get it in the morning was a pretty big giveaway.

The dog had faked it.

Cockblocking son of a bitch!

* * *

><p>Wrote this as a quick update while on bus. It's super short, just 1500 words, I meant to write longer chapter for this story, but I guess I will update more regulary but with shorter chapter.<p>

I have no idea - just somethig that I came up with quickly. Now I'm going back to writing Perfectly Wrong - I feel so much pressure vto write that story well, but this is just something I do just because. If someone else apreciates it - even better.

Yeah, not beted.I just say that making stupid mistakes is kinda ''my thing.''

Reviews would make my heart go super Wiiiiiiii!


	3. Dish Best Served Cold

**Kurt, his Blaine, and Blaine's 'Cerberus'**

**by LivAndLetDie**

**Chapter 3**

"…and then yesterday morning, Blaine was taking Karan out for a walk, when I was getting my newspaper. Or maybe Karan was taking Blaine for a walk, because I'm sure that dog is bigger than he is. He said hi to me and waved, but then Karan basically started to pull him away. And I swear to God, that dog turned his head around, when Blaine wasn't looking and he fucking glared at me. He did! Honestly, he gave me this 'I'm imagining burying you in my back yard' look! He does it all the time, but never when Blaine is looking. That dog is haunting me!" Kurt told his therapist Miss Pillsbury. He was lying on the brown leather couch, which seemed to be some kind of standard 'shrink couch'. Was there actually a therapist, who didn't have one of these?

Yes, Kurt was seeing a therapist. No, that was not a recent development. It was nothing serious; he just sometimes liked to talk about things in his life with someone, who wasn't his close friend. With friends he was risking being obnoxious and annoying, but Miss Pillsbury was paid to listen to his insane rambling. He usually came to her office once in a month or so, but since meeting Blaine, or to be precise, since meeting Karan, he was spending every Monday morning lying on this exact couch.

And he liked his therapist – half the time he wasn't sure, if she was even listening to him, but it didn't really matter. She pretended to listen to his sob stories about traumatizing high school years, and Kurt didn't mind if she spent their session trying to clean the dirt in her flower pot.

"Honestly, if it was anyone else, I would have given up ages ago, but Blaine is really something else." He continued. "I like Blaine. I might love Blaine; he's amazing. He's just the sweetest guy and we get each other. He's my missing puzzle peace, you know? Sometimes I can almost imagine us sitting together in rocking chairs, surrounded by fat grandchildren. And did I tell you about last Wednesday, when he spent all day patching roof. He was outside; shirtless and sweaty. My eyes felt dry afterwards from being glued to my kitchen's window for so long. I had to go to drug store just to get some eye drops! And don't even let me start about sex. It's just…wow!"

Their first date was followed by another the next night. This time it really was perfect, mainly because afterwards they went to KURT'S house instead of Blaine's. Yes, they had known each other for less than week, but they were both grown up and, when Kurt though about it, he might have already fallen for Blaine. Kurt had memorized their night as 'The Night' for rest of his life. It really was special, filled with burning passion and soft touches at the same time.

Everything was perfect. The only problem was that THING. A demon possessed hell dog, encased in a huge, 150 pound black dog.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. You have an amazing, relationship with Blaine?" Miss Pillsbury asked. Hey, looks like she wasn't just trying to brush the carpet with a comb, and she was listening after all. That's new. I nodded to answer her. "And the only thing, standing in your way is a dog that fakes illnesses and glares at you?"

"Yes!" Kurt exclaimed loudly.

Miss Pillsbury sat by her desk and wrote something down in her notebook. Then she gave him that 'oh, you poor crazy person – I understand you' look, that only therapists know how to give."Kurt, have you ever considered that maybe it's all in your imagination."

"Right, I'm imagining all those glares and possessive growling. And dog shit I always find on my doorstep. And whenever Blaine stays over at my place, you can probably hear the howling all the way across the town. Of course, how did I not realize it before - I'm imagining that!" Kurt said sarcastically.

"Well dogs are very loyal to their owners, maybe he just feels lonely, when left alone. And the growling may not be because of you either – some dogs are just bad tempered." Miss Pillsbury offered.

"But Great Danes are supposed to be very sweet dogs, they're called gentle giants; I looked it up. And he's not like that with everyone else; I've seen that dog playing with neighborhood kids. He acts like an overgrown puppy around anyone else, but, when I'm there, he's out for blood." Kurt insisted. Was he the only one, who could see Karan for what he truly was – a hell dog, Cerberus, a monster. A cockblocking, guy steeling monster! "Also I found that they live for seven years on average; does that make me a bad person, if it brings me hope? I mean seven years is not that long of a time and Blaine has already had him for at least couple of years, so for all I know the dog could die tomorrow."

"So, you actually believe that this dog is out to get you?" Miss Pillsbury said in a disbelieving tone. "Kurt, have you ever considered, that it's not actually about the dog. The problem is in you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe you're insecurities are showing themselves and being projected as this dog. You have never been this crazy about anyone and you haven't had a serious relationship in five years-"

"Four and a half." Kurt quickly added.

"- five years," Miss Pillsbury continued, "and now you have met someone, and you're already imagining future together with him."

"Yeah, I'm not fallowing?"

"Maybe you're just insecure about committing yourself. Trust me, I know. Serious relationship comes with serious commitment. You have to live together, share everything and deal with 'taming of the one eyed snake' on at least yearly bases. That can be terrifying."

"Yeah, the 'one eyed snake' has already been tamed. Multiply times in various positions with-"

"Okay! Let's not dwell on that." She interrupted.

"So, what you're saying is that I'm projecting my nonexistent fear of relationship in daily dog shit left by my front doors?"

"No, maybe you just imagine that these dog poopies just mean that you can't be with Blaine. Maybe this dog is a symbol of your fears of letting yourself fall for him."

"Right." Kurt said, not really buying this explanation. "Yeah, I still think that dog shit is just dog shit and not my overactive imagination. Trust me, I stepped in it once; I did not spend 20 minutes cleaning my Doc Martins from insecurities."

"Oh, Kurt!" Mss Pillsbury said in slightly pitying voice. "Clearly you're still not accepting your problems, but once you realize that it's all just in your head, you will be able to deal with it."

"Deal with it. How?" Kurt asked.

"Well you have to fight back. You can't let your fears dictate your life. You have to realize how it's you holding yourself back and then you have to take control of your life!" Miss Pillsbury said with much enthusiasm, before switching the desk lamp on and off exactly seven times before switching it off for good, now that it was light outside.

Kurt thought about it for the moment, while she was switching the lamp on and off and came to a conclusion, "You know, I think you might actually be right."

"I am? I mean, you understand, that I might be right?"She asked, looking excited about helping someone. Bless her sweet heart.

"Of course! All this time I was playing dead and running away. Before I thought that there was something fundamentally wrong about fighting with dog; it's not really fair, because he doesn't have thumbs and thus can't use heavy guns. But I've been stepping in dog shit for far too long and I refuse to take it anymore!"

"That's the spirit! It's good that you have progressed so quickly, Kurt. Do you have a plan, how you're going to fight with your fears?"

"I was thinking about putting some laxatives in his dog food to begin with."

"Laxatives? Why would you…Kurt, no that's not what I meant. You have to fight with your inner demons not the dog."

"Thanks Miss Pillsbury, you definitely gave me a lot to think about."

"What? Kurt, that's not-" Miss Pillsbury starter to say, but Kurt didn't hear her anymore, because he was already walking out.

All this time he was letting Karan boss him around, but that ended here and now. No one pushes Hummels around!

* * *

><p>He rang Blaine's doorbell around noon. He was ready to show Karan who's the boss and who gets to sleep on the floor. This was one battle he won't lose, especially because Blaine was the prize.<p>

Blaine opened doors moments later. He was dressed in paint covered old, navy blue t-shirt, with name 'Dalton' and some kind of logo on it and sweat pants. He smiled, when he saw Kurt, "Hi! Well, this is a pleasant surprise."

"I'm all for surprises," Kurt said and leaned in to give his boyfriend a kiss.

And just like he predicted, that exact moment something crashed down in house with a loud bang.

"Karan?" Blaine called. "Come inside, I was just removing the old paint from my bedroom's walls."

Kurt came inside but didn't make the same mistake again – he did not remove his shoes. Blaine walked ahead, trying to see, why Karan was whining. They both walked upstairs to Blaine's bedroom.

"Hey, boy! Are you okay?" Blaine asked. When they both came inside bedroom, the stool with paint brushes, some rags and small bucket with water had toppled over. Karan was sitting right next to it.

"Karan! Now why did you do that?" Blaine asked looking over the mess the dog had made. Kurt smiled, thinking that the dog was finally in trouble, but Blaine just knelt down by him and scratched behind its ear, saying, "How do you always manage to get everything so messy?"

Karan just liked his face with his long, pink tongue, making Blaine laugh, and all was forgiven.

Blaine moved back and started to mop up the spilled water. Kurt asked, "Can I help?"

"Nah, it's just some spilled water. I'll clean it up; there's no need for you to get dirty too. But you could help with your advice – I'm coloring my bedroom red; do you think it would work?"

"What kind of red?" Kurt asked.

"Umm, I don't know? The red kind of red?" Blaine asked, clearly not understanding the question.

"I meant in what shade? You know; burgundy, mahogany, crimson, vermillion, carmine, magenta? I think terra cotta could work but Persian red would be even better. In bedroom your bed is the most important part; yours is black so any kind of red would work really, but you don't want to go too dark, or it will look like something out of Dracula."

"You will have to write that down; other ways I will never remember it."

"Will do!"

While Blaine was mopping the floor, Karan was all over him, obviously staking his claim. He was rubbing against Blaine and practically tried to crawl in his lap. It looked very awkward, because Karan was no puppy – when Blaine was kneeling down, Karan was bigger than he was. Blaine playfully pushed him away, saying, "Stop it, boy! I have to clean this up, I know how you don't like water. You will thank me, when you don't have to get your paws wet."

"Karan doesn't like water?" Kurt asked, faking genuine interest.

"No, you can't even imagine how much he detests it! He won't even go out, if it had rained the previous day."

"That's…interesting." And then a plan was born.

Blaine mopped as much water up, as he could and went to bathroom to rinse rags out. Leaving Kurt and Karan in the same room. Alone.

For a long time they just stared at each other, both not willing to be the first one to look away or blink.

"I know you don't like me." Kurt said. Karan huffed as if saying 'No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away?' Kurt continued, "But frankly, I don't really care. I like Blaine, and you will have to back down, because I'm not going anywhere. You might have been here first, but I will still be here long after you're gone."

Karan started to growl. He bared his teeth and stood even taller. He easily reached Kurt's stomach.

"We can do it the hard way or the easy way. It's your choice. Personally I've always been against wearing real fur, it's too gaudy for my taste, but in your case, I could make an exception."

Karan barked loudly, still barring his teeth. Kurt took his bark as a 'Fuck you'.

"Okay, hard way it is."

He turned around and walked to bathroom. Kurt came inside and told Blaine quietly "Blaine, we have to talk."

"Yeah, what is it," He asked, still rinsing rags.

"I was scratching Karan behind his ear and I saw fleas."

"You're sure?" Blaine asked, turning water off.

"Definitely. And lots of them. A colony of fleas." Kurt replied in his best 'I love this dog and wish only the best for him' voice.

"Maybe that's why he's been so clumsy lately. When he's scratching he always falls over and he's a big dog – he doesn't always realize his own size. That is not good. It means I have to give him B.A.T.H." He mouthed the last word.

"Bath?" Kurt asked loudly.

Immediately after that he heard nails scratching on floorboards as Karan took off somewhere downstairs.

"Karan!" Blaine called. He put everything down, and we both went downstairs. We found Karan trying to hide himself under the living room couch. They both couldn't figure out how this huge dog had even managed to crawl underneath it. His hideout wasn't very good; his nose was peaking out on one end and you could see his tail coming out on the other.

"Karan! Come on boy, come out. It won't be bad, you will feel better afterwards. We're trying to help you." Blaine said and tried to pull the dog from beneath the couch. He wasn't too successful.

Karan's whimpers, that were real for this time, were music to Kurt's ears.

"Kurt. I'm sorry, but maybe you should leave. It would probably be easier, if it was just me and him."

"Oh okay. Sure. Come to my house tonight?"

"Count on it," Blaine replied. Kurt gave Blaine a goodbye kiss; a long goodbye kiss with lots of tongue right in front of the couch. There was a small growl in the middle of whimpering coming from underneath the couch.

Kurt once again pent his afternoon, looking outside his kitchen window, this time with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. Blaine finally managed to drag Karan outside, pulling and showing him with all his strength. He tied the dog's leash to nearby tree and used garden hose to wash him. Karan looked so miserable, when he was soaking wet and Blaine was leathering him up with dog shampoo, Kurt couldn't resist taking few pictures.

Revenge was dish best served cold; in this case, it was best served with cold water.

* * *

><p>Oh, how I love you Emma, my fellow OCD person. You give me hope, that there are people who are a lot weirder than I am. I just arrange everything in straigh lines and make lists. And worry about germs way too much. And don't mix my food together. But hey, at least I have never cleaned therapists chair. Small victories!<p>

Ke, dollar sign, ha's drug might be love, but mine are reviews!


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